The Great Purge
by Sakiku
Summary: Methos learns that a race he had thought extinct might not be as extinct. However, there are strange circumstances surrounding their encounter...


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Highlander or Inu Yasha; both of them belong to their respective authors and producers. I don't make any money from this story.

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Twisted logic, time travel paradoxes, and some violence

**Summary:** Methos learns that a race he had thought extinct might not be as extinct. However, there are strange circumstances surrounding their encounter...

* * *

**The Great Purge**

'_An Undying One.'_

Methos stiffened. He had been walking down a very busy street in downtown Tokyo, when he was hailed like that from behind. It had been more than 500 years that he had heard that term, Undying One. And there shouldn't be anyone alive remembering it. At least, nobody without an Immortal presence. Neither should there be anyone alive remembering that language.

The language of Demons.

It was too late now to pretend he hadn't heard or understood the words, so he turned around. He looked at the man - the creature - standing less than two meters away, and had to revise all his knowledge about how demons had become extinct during the Great Purge of 1481. Because there was no mistaking the regal presence and those regal markings that made the busy crowd instinctively keep its distance as it flowed around them.

This was a daiyoukai. One of the White Inu, those most familiar with keeping up a human appearance. Only Kitsune were better at pretending humanity, but they never reached the strength of a daiyoukai.

He bowed and looked for words in a language that wasn't made for human throats. '_That I am, my Lord.'_

To a modern-day ear, it would have sounded like a combination of growls and snarls and hisses; like someone trying to clear their throat. The language was made to be spoken within animal bodies, and human tongues could only give a pitiful imitation. Neither could human ears hear the subtle nuances of overlaying ultrasonic and subsonic frequencies that gave the words depth and meaning.

It had been quite a pain to learn how to talk in a somewhat understandable manner.

Despite his horrendous accent and butchering of the words, the demon seemed to have understood him. A regal, white eyebrow rose to acknowledge him. '_One that speaks. You are Olde?'_

'_Ancient.'_

Olde was the demons' term for creatures more than 1000 years of age; Ancient for those older than 2000. Even for daiyoukai, it was rare to reach that age, never mind weaker youkai.

'_Then it should be I who bows to you.'_

And that was the exact reason why Methos had let slip a hint to his true age: because, no matter the species, his age inspired respect. He had learned long ago that when dealing with demons, respect was the most important currency. At least when dealing with those demons that were more intelligent than mere animals.

Methos cocked his head slightly to the side to hint at baring his throat. '_A Lord of your strength should bow to no one.'_

He knew how to deal with Inu Youkai. Now that he had stated his claim to respect, one of the worst mistakes he could make was trying to assume a rank higher than what he could defend. If he demanded the Inu Youkai bowed to him, it would imply he thought himself more powerful than the other, which both of them knew wasn't true. Methos was very well aware of the possibility that the daiyoukai knew how to kill an Immortal. And if the demon wished to do so, there was nothing Methos could do - age and experience couldn't compete with supernatural strength and speed in a direct confrontation.

'_Well met, Ancient one,'_ the Inu Youkai nodded towards him. '_You may call this one Lord Sesshoumaru.'_

First hurdle cleared. The demon had acknowledged him and given him a name to use. _'And I am called Marc Brown these days. May I ask to switch this conversation to a human tongue? I do not wish to insult your ears any longer with my deplorable pronunciation, Lord Sesshoumaru.'_

"As you wish, Brown-san, though you sell yourself short. For a human, your command over our language is commendable."

And the second one. They had switched to Japanese, where Methos didn't have to guess at half the conversation simply due to his human ears. "Thank you very much, Sesshoumaru-sama. I had capable and patient teachers."

"Who is it that taught you? You speak very similar to the Inu."

Methos nodded. "I was taught at the behest of a White Inu like yourself. He was the Lord of the Western Lands in those times, and I caught his interest when I revived in front of his eyes."

"When was this?" The Inu Youkai's golden eyes suddenly narrowed to study Methos intently.

"Around the sixth century AD, perhaps two or three centuries after the Lord settled in Japan." Methos didn't dare lie, even if he would have loved nothing more than to hide the truth in such a public place. Who knew who was listening to their conversation. But he needed to answer, and answer truthfully now. Despite belonging to one of the friendlier demon species, Inu Youkai were known for their temper and their rigid code of honor. And lying absolutely went against it.

The daiyoukai nodded slowly, looking at him with a new appreciation in his eyes. "Then you are the one my sire spoke of. You were Ancient even back then."

This was Inutaishou's _son_? Or was he the grandson already?

But no. Great Inu-Youkai aged slowly enough to reach sexual maturity after eight centuries at the earliest. And this daiyoukai was at least eight hundred - Methos could tell from the markings on his face. Were he sexually immature, they would be as blue as the crescent moon on his forehead. However, they were the deep red of mature but unmated adult.

Definitely Inutaishou's son.

But back to the conversation. It was very impolite to be caught woolgathering like that. "Yes, I was already Ancient back then. But, Lord Sesshoumaru, I implore you to not speak of my age so freely. One never knows when somebody might be listening in these times. Even amongst the long memory of my own people, I have become naught but a myth. If they knew me to be alive, I would be hunted to the ends of the earth - if not for my past deeds, then for my Quickening."

"The Game is still going on?"

"Yes, my Lord. And lately, due to the increasing ease of transportation, it seems to have been picking up speed."

"I see. It is indeed disconcerting what mortals have managed to make of the world. Follow me, Undying One. I have more questions that need answers."

Methos couldn't do anything but say, "Yes, my Lord." There was no sense in resisting the command of a daiyoukai. Not when Methos didn't have any pressing obligations at the moment and would have had to invent some excuses. Inu noses were very, very good at scenting lies, and even amongst thick Tokyo pollution Methos didn't want to chance angering such a powerful creature.

So he fell into step half a meter behind and to the right of Sesshoumaru, trailing in his wake as the demon parted the crowds.

To Methos' surprise, there were no servants or chauffeurs or any other kind of attendants nearby. Neither did the daiyoukai lead their way to a car or a taxi - no, Sesshoumaru regally descended into the crowded depths of the Tokyo Underground.

Methos never would have thought that a daiyoukai of his status used public transportation. Then again, maybe this was a tribute to changing times…

Only when the demon pulled out a wallet from the inside of manifold layers of kimono, did Methos realize that the youkai wasn't dressed in modern wear at all. Instead, he could have sprung out of a historical reenactment of five-, maybe six hundred years ago. Sesshoumaru wore his clothes with such natural poise that Methos hadn't even caught on until that moment.

And the wallet he took out looked quite… feminine, if Methos had to say so. Black, but it did have a small 'Hello Kitty!' print in one corner. Nothing any self-respecting male would ever be caught with.

And to make things even more curious, the demon struggled quite a bit to count out the required 300 Yen for a long-distance ticket, inspecting each and every coin for their correct denomination. The way he treated the ticket machine didn't speak of familiarity with technology, either, resembling more the fumblings of someone trying to follow step-by-step instructions a kind person had given them.

All in all, it looked to Methos as if the daiyoukai was very much unfamiliar with both modern technology and society.

However, he didn't say anything or offer any help. It would be quite unwise to draw any attention to the demon's ungraceful actions. Instead, he patiently waited behind Sesshoumaru in line to buy his own ticket.

Somehow, the demon lord managed to get through the turnstile without catching any of his voluminous robes on the iron bars or making any other figure but regally poised, and then they were on the subway. Despite the masses crowding the train, there always seemed to be free space around Sesshoumaru as everyone instinctively shied away from touching the youkai. Methos dared to stay a bit closer to the demon than everyone else, appreciating the small breathing space. Still, he took great care not to touch the demon lord, either.

They had to change once, to get from the central hub to the outward bound lines, and the exact same phenomenon repeated itself. A lot of space for Sesshoumaru, and at least a little breathing space for Methos.

Methos wondered where they were going, and how far the demon lord was planning to lead him away from the city center. Were they actually going to visit his residency? Methos couldn't quite read the signs.

Sesshoumaru's lack of tech-savvy told Methos that the daiyoukai didn't use the subway often, so it was quite unlikely that his home was anywhere near the Tokyo Underground. However, Methos also doubted that the demon was trying to escape the ever-present eyes of civilization so that he could take to the skies and _fly_ to his residency. He thought it very much unlikely that a demon lord would lower himself so much as to carry a human through the air.

It really was starting to become unnerving that, until now, Sesshoumaru hadn't said anything to where they were going. He hadn't said anything at all since their talk in Ginza. And they were already as far as the first suburbs.

Then, without warning, the daiyoukai moved to exit. Methos followed, and the only reason he got out before the doors closed again was because Sesshoumaru's wake was clear of people.

He found himself on a nearly empty platform, both the train and the daiyoukai leaving without looking back. Hurrying after the demon lord, Methos once again fell into step half a pace behind the regal white form. They were in a residential neighborhood, quite deserted at that time of day. It was a little after noon, which meant that parents were at work and children at school. The occasional housewife could be seen taking pets for a walk or pushing baby carriages. A few grandmothers watched them curiously from inside their houses.

And the daiyoukai kept walking without looking left or right.

After maybe half an hour, during which the residential neighborhood hadn't changed much except for the occasional kindergarten and elementary school, the demon lord left the sidewalk to climb some long, winding stairs. Methos lost count after the first fifty steps, the whole thing being at least three times as long. The torii gate at the base had already clued Methos in that they were heading for a shrine, but when they stepped through the torii gate at the top Methos was still surprised at the sudden influx of holy powers. Mostly that was because miko were supposed to be as extinct as demons.

Sesshoumaru-sama, whose youki was diametrically opposite to the mikoki permeating the shrine, didn't even flinch. That, more than anything, spoke of how powerful the demon was. Then again, the wards of the shrine almost seemed to welcome the dog demon.

A huge tree featured quite prominently in the center of the court, with several buildings of different sizes enclosing the square. Sesshoumaru unfailingly headed towards the main house, stepping onto the engawa with a light leap. Somehow, he managed shed his shoes in the same motion, padding barefoot on the wooden planks. Methos hurried to do the same, much less gracefully than the demon.

By the time he had finally gotten rid of his sneakers, Sesshoumaru had already slid open one of the shouji doors, a simple plain white one that didn't look any different from the walls of the house.

"Oh, you're back already, Sesshoumaru-san?" a female voice came from within the shrine. "I'm sorry, but Kagome isn't back yet from school. She won't come home until five at the earliest."

Methos privately raised an eyebrow. The woman spoke to Sesshoumaru as if she was talking to a very familiar guest – not like he would have imagined a daiyoukai's servant treating their master. Was this shrine not Sesshoumaru's?

The demon lord nodded regally. "I have brought a guest. We will talk out on the engawa."

"That is great! I'll make some tea, and I'll see to it that you remain undisturbed."

"That would be appreciated."

Methos hadn't thought that a single woman could sound so perky. Did she have any idea at all that she was talking to a daiyoukai? Methos hadn't picked up on any fear from her; more like she thought Sesshoumaru was... well, he didn't know – a close friend who happened to be a guest in their house?

Finally rid of his shoes, Methos followed the demon lord's beckoning. The daiyoukai walked around a corner of the building, and then settled on the wooden planks not too far from the storm shutters that could be drawn in case of bad weather. Methos copied his example, but instead of sitting casually and leaning against a wooden strut of the wall, he knelt in the more formal seiza. His legs protested immediately, not used anymore to sitting like that. However, he didn't dare offend the demon lord by taking a more relaxed position.

Then they waited. Sesshoumaru didn't seem inclined to speak, and Methos definitely wasn't one to start first. Not when every single rule of Inu-Youkai etiquette demanded Sesshoumaru did so. So he used the time to center himself, trying to remember as much as he could about his stay of nearly two centuries with the dog demons, in order to avoid making a faux-pass.

Faux-passes could be deadly when dealing with demons.

The sound of sliding doors drew him out of memory, and a woman in her early forties exited with a tea tray in her hands. She seemed a little surprised when she saw Methos, but quickly smiled and recovered with an elegant bow that showed off some of the layers of her shrine maiden kimono. "Oh, I am incredibly sorry, how impolite of me. I thought you were someone else - I must apologize for my lack of greeting you. If Sesshoumaru hasn't told you yet, my name is Higurashi Akane. Welcome to the Higurashi shrine." The woman halted briefly, a twitch of uncertainty crossing her face before she switched into heavily accented English. "You Japanese understand, do you?"

Methos had to smile when he answered back in fluent Japanese. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Higurashi-san. Please, do not feel guilty on my behalf, since I made the same mistake of assuming you were someone else. My name is Brown Mark and it is a pleasure to meet you. Please take care of me."

In the old traditions, the thanking and apologizing to each other would have gone on for quite some time still. But despite the traditional setting and Higurashi-san's traditional clothes, she showed that she was very much a modern woman by forgoing the endless rounds of compliments and courtesies. "Of course, Brown-san. Here is your tea. Yours, too, Sesshoumaru-san. If you need anything, just call for me. I have a tourist group in ten, but that shouldn't take too long."

Methos had nearly frozen in shock when she had handed him the first cup of tea. He threw the Inu-youkai a nervous glance. While guests normally did get served first, that was not the case when the lord of the house was of higher rank. For her to dismiss Sesshoumaru as less important than an obvious gai-jin... However, the dog demon hadn't reacted at all, merely receiving the second bowl with a dismissive grunt. While his youki _was_ seething with the affront, it smoothed out quickly instead of boiling over into a rage-filled attack. It was obvious that the woman never realized just how close to death she had just come.

Just what exactly was going on here?

Heart still pounding in his throat, Methos bowed much deeper than he needed and into a direction that was halfway between Higurashi-san and Sesshoumaru. Higurashi-san would probably dismiss it as his Western ignorance; the daiyoukai would hopefully recognize it as the apology it was intended as. "Thank you very much, Highurashi-san. Please, don't inconvenience yourself on my behalf."

"It is no problem, Brown-san. Have a nice time!"

Higurashi-san bowed once again, and then retreated into the house. Neither Methos nor Sesshoumaru-sama said anything for a while, merely sipping their tea. Methos was still trying to make sense of a woman who obviously had no sensitivity to spiritual energy at all, who owned a shrine that was definitely teeming with the energy of a live miko, and who treated a Great Inu-Youkai inordinately familiarly without any reproach at all from said youkai. Had times changed that much? Or wasn't she aware of Sesshoumaru-sama's inhumanity?

Sesshoumaru let out a nearly silent huff as he set his bowl of tea aside. "My Sire's words suggested that Undying Ones are sensitive to spiritual energy."

Methos nodded, curious as to where the demon was going. "Yes. Some more so, some less."

"Then let me ask bluntly: when was the last time you felt youki?"

"Other than today? Not since the Great Purge."

And Methos had tried. He hadn't believed that the cataclysmic actions of one single miko would be enough to end the lives of all demons. But years had passed, then decades, and finally centuries without any sign of demons whatsoever. In the end, Methos had quietly shoved demons, too, into the category of people/cultures he had survived.

Until today, that is.

The white dog-demon stiffened and bared his fangs. "The Great Purge. When was that?"

Say what? "1481," Methos answered in confusion, then started some quick calculations when the dog-demon couldn't seem to make heads or tails of the year. "Bunmei 13. The seventeenth year of Emperor Go-Tsuchimikado-sama's reign, I believe."

A growl, dark and violent, escaped the Inu-Youkai's throat. His youki lashed out so strongly that Methos' hair was blown out of his face merely from the wind generated. And Methos could smell the distinctive scent of Inu-poison. A sweet, metallic odor that would obtain an acrid tang as soon as the poison touched any organic or inorganic surface unprotected by youki.

Methos held very, very still. Enraged youkai were lethal, even when their rage was directed at someone – or something – else. He didn't know what he had said, what he had done wrong, to set Sesshoumaru off like that, but he knew that a single wrong move now could mean his end.

"Tell me everything about this Great Purge that you know!" the Inu-Youkai demanded. His eyes were taking on a reddish tint, a sure sign that he was starting to lose rationality.

Methos hastened to provide a satisfactory answer. "Nobody knows exactly what caused it. One day, there was a huge surge of spiritual energy, mikoki as well as youki, and since that day nobody has seen a single demon. Nor a human with spiritual power, by the way. Those Immortals I asked all told me the same story all over the world. I wasn't in Japan, or even in Asia at that time, so all I have are third- and fourth-hand accounts, but it is generally assumed that the surge originated somewhere in Japan. Rumor has it that a powerful miko used an even more powerful artifact to unbalance the world's spiritual energy in a way that made it impossible for spiritual energy to be externalized. That would explain the disappearance of all demons, since you more or less are incapable of existing without youki. It would explain, too, why all spiritually gifted humans lost their powers. It is nothing but rumor though, since no one has found evidence of either the artifact or the miko. This shrine and your presence though prove the falsity of the rumor."

"No, they do not," Sesshoumaru growled, teeth grinding audibly. "Since I am not of this time. And neither did the shrine's miko learn her skills in this time."

Methos sucked his air in sharply. "Time travel, my Lord?" Even though Methos had never heard of successful time travel before, it never occurred to him to doubt the Inu Youkai's words.

The dog demon merely jerked his head in a nod. A permanent, low rumble filled the air – a growl of suppressed rage.

Doing some math, Methos quickly realized just why the demon was so angry. The Lord of the Western Lands Methos had left in the seventh century hadn't had any heirs. Sesshoumaru was about eight hundred years old, placing him in the fifteenth century at the very least. Even if Sesshoumaru had been born within a couple of years of Methos' departure, the Great Purge of 1481 had to be uncomfortably close to the time the daiyoukai came from.

Still, there were several questions swirling in his head, not least of all the mindbending mechanics of time travel. "If I may ask, Sesshoumaru-sama, has the miko blessed this shrine upon her arrival here, or has it already held these levels of mikoki?"

Only afterwards did he realize that the demon had said nothing of the miko being from the past, too. But then, how had she found her way into the past? Or had she time traveled in the other direction, into the future?

The dog demon was still growling and his eyes were flaring redder by the second. "The miko was born into this time, into this shrine. And she is currently in the process of assembling an artifact that is indeed powerful enough to cause a cataclysm of the proportions you have described."

Sesshoumaru did not have to elaborate. Methos understood quite well that the Inu Youkai thought that the miko was the one to cause the Great Purge. He was quite glad that the miko wasn't present at the moment, because he didn't know if the daiyoukai wouldn't have killed her right there, right then, to preserve the existence of all youkai. And his own.

However, Methos had his doubts that such an extreme action would have helped anything.

"My Lord, I am not certain whether impeding the miko will prevent anything. I am not certain whether the Great Purge is preventable at all."

The fully focused rage of a great dog demon bore down on Methos. "Explain."

If he hadn't spent a century amongst their race, he probably would have quailed. Even so, he barely managed to stand his ground in face of the lethal threat. Every human nerve in his body was responding with the primal reflex of danger – predator, and it was only his long forgotten experience that allowed him to not let the dog demon affect him too badly.

"From your perspective, it is certainly a reasonable course of action to try and prevent the Great Purge," he began carefully. "However, from my perspective, the event has already happened. If you were to succeed in your endeavor, I do not know how that would be reconcilable with the past from my perspective. Were you to prevent youkai from disappearing, the world as I know it today would not have developed. And seeing that the miko comes from the world as it is today..." Methos twitched his hands apologetically. "I have no idea whether that would cause a paradoxon, whether it will erase the timeline starting with the prevented Great Purge, whether it will erase the timeline down to when the miko appeared the first time in the past, whether alternate branches of the timeline will open up, or whether anything would happen at all. I simply do not know."

He paused briefly. "I do not know either if you will be able to change at all what is the past from my perspective. Maybe your actions motivated by what you have learned from me today will be what causes the Great Purge in the first place."

"Then you propose I do _nothing_?" the great demon snarled. He was glowing with the aura of his churning youki, and Methos was thankful for his own healing abilities. Were his quickening not repairing his skin as quickly as the caustic aura ate into it, he would be looking very sun-burned by now. As it was, he was still in considerable amounts of pain.

However, pain could be ignored in the face of more serious danger. Were Sesshoumaru to lose his control and transform into his demon form, Methos doubted he – and many others – would survive the experience. "I propose nothing of the sort," he said with pearls of sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "I only think that it would be unwise to try and change what are known facts from my perspective. Namely that no youkai has been seen since the Great Purge, and that any and all spiritual energy, be it youki, reiki or mikoki, has vanished. Until now at least. However, if you can find a way to preserve yourself and yours without violating those constraints, I see no reason why you shouldn't do so."

The Inu-Youkai's eyes narrowed to thin slits. "You don't?"

"I don't," Methos confirmed.

All of a sudden, Sesshoumaru got up and stepped into the inner courtyard. There he drew one of his swords, and to Methos' awe, the air in front of him began to shimmer. A long time ago, when he had been in the Egyptian courts where a Great Dog Demon had been revered as the death god Anubis, he had seen something similar. Anubis had opened a door to the netherworld to send a soul there, and Methos had been privileged to witness the event. The air had shimmered the same way back then, with the same feeling of otherworldly spiritual pressure.

For Sesshoumaru to be able to open such a gate meant he was truly prodigious. Anubis had been at least a thousand years old before he had been able to perform that feat.

It took a while for Methos to follow the train of thoughts the daiyoukai must have taken. But then he realized the ingenuity of the idea. Since humans were still dying and not roaming around as undead, the netherworld apparently existed regardless of the existence of spiritual energy. And it most likely wasn't affected by the same constraints as the real world. So, as long as a demon could survive in the netherworld, they should be able to survive the Great Purge and the following time until spiritual energy returned.

And dog demons were capable of living in the netherworld.

However something seemed to go wrong. The shimmer never quite manifested into the portal Methos remembered Anubis creating, and Sesshoumaru's snarl got more and more pronounced. Finally, he slashed his sword and the air exploded in a silent concussion. Thankfully the shock wave collapsed in on itself before it could harm any of the surroundings. The beginnings of the portal though were gone.

Methos was sure that, if it hadn't been such an undignified thing to do, Sesshoumaru would be pacing back and forth. As it was, he stood rooted in his spot, staring furiously at the spot the portal had failed to open in.

The tense moment was broken most unceremoniously by Mrs. Higurashi leading a group of tourists around the corner. Methos could see how Sesshoumaru's shoulders stiffened and tensed as the tourists caught sight of him. As tourists were wont to do, they started exclaiming over his swords and his magnificent clothes and just how _beautiful_ he was. When the first woman tried to ask for a picture with the great demon lord, Sesshoumaru threw them all a withering glare that made them flinch backwards. To be honest, Methos was expecting serious bodily harm to be done just about any second now.

So when the daiyoukai simply sheathed his swords and stalked back towards Methos, none was more surprised – and relieved – than Methos.

_'Follow,'_ Sesshoumaru growled at him, and once again Methos couldn't do anything but trail behind the dog demon. He barely had time to slip into his sneakers again before Sesshoumaru rounded the corner and he had to hurry to keep up.

The youkai led him around the main house, to the side not facing the central courtyard. There was very little space before the hill the shrine had been built on started sloping downwards. Nothing but a narrow walkway separated the house from the woods and a sharp drop. So, when the demon lord stopped and turned around all of a sudden, Methos felt uncomfortably cramped. On the other hand Higurashi-san wouldn't lead her group of tourists this way, which was a definite bonus in Methos' opinion.

_'What happened to the mark my sire left on you?'_

Again the demonic language. Methos was glad that his quickening also healed his vocal chords; otherwise he would already be hoarse from their conversation earlier. Demon dog language simply wasn't made for human throats. What concerned him more though was that the old Dog General had told Sesshoumaru so much about Methos. '_It is gone then?'_

Before Methos had left the Lord of the Western Lands in the seventh century, the youkai had insisted upon marking Methos with some of his youki. It had been more a show of protection than of ownership, a gift more than anything. Most demons were too stupid to distinguish between a regular human and an Immortal, and thus attacked both equally. And Immortals had only little better chance at surviving such an attack. The youki mark however had broadcast loud and clear that a powerful demon was interested in Methos' well-being, and amongst demons a statement like that carried a lot of weight.

Additionally, it had opened doors for him more than once upon encountering other intelligent youkai. With spiritually sensitive humans of course, it had been the other way around. But all in all, he held it in a positive light despite the painful way of creating it. To know for certain it was gone...

Methos sighed. '_I suspect it vanished with the Great Purge or shortly afterwards. But the lack of spiritual energy prevented me from sensing anything, so even if it had lasted longer I wouldn't have known it._'

_'It lasted for several centuries then? Your undying life energy refrained from erasing it after my Sire's death?'_

Even all the way in Scotland at that time, Methos had heard the news of the Lord of the Western Lands dying. Not from any human, no, but the demon world, or the Fae world as it was called in Scotland, had certainly vibrated with the information that one of Japan's Great Four had left the mortal plane. _'As far as I know, yes.'_

Sesshoumaru nodded in satisfaction. '_Then brace yourself.'_

Before Methos could make a move to protest, Sesshoumaru had already struck. The dog demon pierced him with one of his claws, stabbing him just above the solar plexus and going up until the claw was hooked behind Methos' breast bone.

For the first moments, Methos was completely frozen with his breath stalled in his lungs. His hands had instinctively come up to clutch at Sesshoumaru's arm, but there was no coordination to them. There went his slight hope that the daiyoukai wouldn't know how to create a mark that stuck even with Methos' accelerated healing.

And then, the pain hit.

It was agonizing. More agonizing than he remembered the first time being. Then again, memory never held a candle to reality. Methos was in too much pain to even think about screaming; all he was able to do was wheeze a strangled grunt.

He reflexively clutched at the daiyoukai's forearm as he tried to keep breathing. He could feel the demon inject some poison and some youki into his body, forming it into a tiny sphere just behind Methos' breastbone. The old Inu Taishou had decided upon that location because it afforded the best protection even dealing with the damage an Immortal body tended to go through. And apparently, the old dog hat passed that knowledge on to his son.

Methos could curse him for it.

As quickly as the claw had come, as quickly it was gone again. Blood spilled down Methos' front as he collapsed into an agonized heap on the ground while his quickening fought to repair the wound and eliminate the poison. But Inu poisons were not eliminated so easily, especially not when backed by a considerable amount of youki. And so they fought and caused more damage to the tissue around it and generally were incredibly painful.

The surgical precision with which the daiyoukai had avoided hitting his heart or nicking his lungs would have been admirable. However, for once Methos wouldn't have minded dying a bit. At least until his quickening and the youkai poison had reached an equilibrium.

He didn't know how long he writhed on the ground and tried to keep his screams in. He only knew that it took a long time after the entry wound itself had already healed. And throughout all this, the dog demon kept watch attentively.

When the sensations had died down to a case of serious heartburn and the caustic youki entered an uneasy truce with Methos' quickening, Methos felt completely drained. Nonetheless he heaved himself to his feet, still shaking from the pain that had just passed. "Was that really necessary?" he asked hoarsely, not caring a whit that he was using Japanese again. He couldn't deal with the intricacies of demonic languages right now.

"Your healing is faster now than it had been during my sire's time."

Methos' sarcastic laugh quickly turned into pained coughs that agitated the poison orb behind his breastbone. From experience he knew that it would take several weeks for him to get used to the youki, and for the acidic burning to fade completely. "I am older than I was then," he finally managed.

Sesshoumaru merely kept staring at him through slitted eyes. It took most of Methos' strength to prevent himself from fidgeting, the painful experience just now having robbed him of much of his regular composure. But he could not show weakness in front of a daiyoukai, least of all a daiyoukai that had tentatively accepted Methos as someone of importance. Not one of those countless worthless humans.

Finally, Sesshoumaru turned around mutely and set a slow pace. One that was easy for Methos to follow, even with trembling knees and burning breastbone. Only then did the daiyoukai start talking again.

_'Should I survive to these times, this mark will allow me to find you again. Then you will receive proper recompense for the service you have just rendered to the House of the Western Lands.'_

They were nearing the corner of the main house, from where they would once again be within sight of both the courtyard and the stairs leading to the shrine. Sesshoumaru stopped right before he became visible and turned his head to look at Methos. _'However, should your advice of inaction be the one to lead to my demise, consider the pain you have just suffered a small taste of what will be waiting for you once you enter the netherworld. Until we meet again, Ancient One.'_

With those words, Sesshoumaru was gone. Once again, the demon lord had moved before Methos could answer in any way. It was amazing how well growls and snarls lent themselves to expressing words like 'pain' and 'suffering'. 'Netherworld' also sounded properly ominous in the demonic language. And Methos knew that the threat wasn't an empty one. He shivered. That had definitely not been his intention when coming to Japan, endangering his life once again.

Now that he wasn't under the imminent scrutiny of a daiyoukai anymore, Methos could sigh and rake a hand through his hair. Only then did he realize how dirty he had become during his stint on the ground. With a bitten-off curse, he shook the leaves out of his hair and tried to get rid of the worst of the stains. His shirt was a lost cause, both because of the hole where Sesshoumaru had stabbed him and the blood that had then seeped out of the wound. His jeans though were thankfully unbloodied and not as dirty, and since it hadn't rained in quite some time he could just brush off most of it.

He decided to get rid of the shirt – if he closed the jacket he was wearing, that should be enough. And if someone asked, he could always say he had managed to spill some water over himself and had taken off the shirt to let it dry. The shirt he wadded up and stuffed into a pocket of his jacket, one that was just big enough to fit the entire thing.

Only then did he walk around the corner of the building and into plain sight again.

Thankfully neither Higurashi-san nor her tourist group were anywhere to be seen, and neither was the daiyoukai. Methos pretended everything was normal as he slowly strolled through the torii gates and then down the stairs.

On the way down, he passed a girl in school uniform who was just climbing the stairs. The thick miasma of mikoki hovering around her quickly clued him in that this probably was the miko the Inu-Youkai had been talking about. However, Methos was not in the mood at all to complicate his already complicated day even further. He didn't react, not even when she hesitated in mid-step and looked at him strangely. Should she be capable of sensing the youki he had just been gifted with, he was going to let the dog demon explain – if he explained at all. Methos planned on being gone from Tokyo as quickly as he could.

It was a bit of a hassle to find his way back to the train station, but people were quite helpful when asked. Only when he was safely on the train did he dare relax again.

He would leave his hotel this evening, and tomorrow he would be in New Zealand already. There was no way he was going to stick around in Japan any longer, no matter how things turned out. If he never saw any demon again, that would still be too early.

Unconsciously, he rubbed his aching breastbone.

* * *

Years came and went. It was exceedingly rare that Methos felt any spiritual energy, but the occasions slowly got more frequent. Apparently, the world was recovering from the Great Purge.

Every time, Methos stayed as far away from the source as possible. He so didn't want to let himself be dragged into any more supernatural encounters.

One evening though, a slim Asian woman in her mid-twenties knocked on the door to his flat. He was currently living in Uruguay, in a relatively small house in Montevideo. When he opened the door, he looked at her in askance.

She smiled at him and said in Japanese, "You were a hard one to find, Undying One."

It was only then that he felt the enormous amount of mikoki she contained. She had suppressed it to the point that it almost vanished; however, ever since he had received his second mark of demonic ki ten years ago, Methos had grown quite sensitive to spiritual pressure.

And there was only one woman in current times he had ever felt such an amount of mikoki from.

He frowned. "You are the Higurashi miko, aren't you? The one associated with the House of the Western Lands?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Higurashi Kagome, nice to meet you." Then she held out a wooden carrying case towards him. "I tried to send it several times, but every time you had already moved."

Methos nearly hissed. For someone to be able to track him through several identity changes without him catching on... he was getting lax. And no, it didn't matter to him that the miko had probably employed supernatural means to find him. The supernatural was slowly seeping back into the world, and he would need to be prepared to deal with it once again.

The carrying case the miko kept holding out at him was by no means small. It was over four feet tall, maybe a foot in breadth and half a foot deep. Methos had seen similar carrying cases before, but he doubted the miko was transporting billiard cues or golf clubs. And that hadn't been his first association anyway. There was only one other thing he could think of being carried like that...

He met Higurashi's eyes. "The Lord of the Western Lands...?"

"Is starting to recover from the strain of spending 520 years in the Netherworld," the miko finished for him with a wan smile.

"And the artifact?"

"Was taken into the past for the last time eight years ago and destroyed there. To prevent a paradoxon from forming, the timeline enforced the Great Purge. Otherwise, the artifact probably would not have survived through the ages for me to be born with it."

Methos nodded as if he understood and set the box on a table next to the entrance. When he opened it, it contained indeed what he had assumed: a slender katana, slightly curved, undecorated and looking like a generic blade. However, its quality and the slight aura of youki hovering about it told an entirely different story.

He looked at the miko sharply, hoping for an explanation.

She smiled again. "He told me to relay to you that he will not disturb the balance of the Game with a fang. It was merely forged with his blood and poison. If you baptize the blade in your blood and your life before it touches any other, nobody will ever be able to use it against you and it will always find its way back to you. It won't get dull, and it will keep serving you well when the supernatural becomes a danger once again."

Methos' eyes narrowed. Giving a fang to a non-demon was unthinkable, not to mention foolish because Methos would have no way of controlling it or using its powers. So the first part of the message had to mean that Sesshoumaru himself would not interfere in the Game and keep any other demons that might have survived to these times from interfering, too. On top of presenting him with a blade forged with youkai blood, this was a far too generous a gift for the mere warning he had delivered ten years ago. There was no way though that he could refuse it without direly offending the Inu Youkai. "And what does he want in return?"

"Nothing."

A favor then. He nodded with a frown, not very happy to be in the debt of a demon lord but seeing no other way. "Very well. Tell him my thanks, and he obviously knows where to find me should he need something." Blunt. Downright impolite, but heart-felt. Should the miko not relay the message in more courteous words, Methos was at least far enough away to not be in the striking range of an angered demon. At least he hoped so.

"I will." She bowed politely. "Have a nice evening, Undying One."

Methos kept watching as she walked away unhurried, completely unafraid of the encroaching dark and the potential dangers lurking in it in this part of town. When she was joined by a white-haired teen in jeans and t-shirt and a baseball cap covering his head, Methos nearly groaned. Just from the body language, one that matched the teen's apparent age, he could already tell that this was not Sesshoumaru. However, he would bet anything that this was a relative.

The teen's gaze locked with his despite the distance and the darkness being too great for a normal human to penetrate. He threw Methos a sloppy salute before rounding the corner together with the miko.

Methos sighed and closed the door, his gaze automatically falling to the katana gleaming unassumingly in the light of his kitchen lamp. It would be a gross mistake not to make use of such a fine weapon. And he was pragmatic enough to take any advantage handed to him, especially when the strings attached had already ensnared him.

Curse living in interesting times.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope I explained all the time-travel paradoxes well enough. In case there are some unclarities, here's the timeline again from the perspective of the Shikon no Tama:

Created by Midoriko  
Passes to Kikyou, vanishes again  
Passed down the line until Kagome is born  
Travels back in time together with Kagome  
Shattered, collected, (mis)used by Naraku, and all that other jazz  
Destroyed in 1481

So, despite the Shikon no Tama being destroyed in 1481, there's still one floating around in 1481, namely the one that is the past version of the one being destroyed. Ergo, to ensure that nothing happens to the past version until it can come back to the Sengoku Jidai to go through the Inu Yasha adventures, time made sure that absolutely nothing can touch/influence the jewel. And the only one(s) to influence the jewel are those with spiritual power, be they youkai or miko or monk. Voila, one Great Purge waiting to happen.

~Sakiku


End file.
